


Blood and Sweat

by ColdEthyl (LadyJaneSlay1554)



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Captivity, Episode: s04 The Doomstar Requiem, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sex, Surgery, Unconscious Sex, Unconsciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 23:56:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21108098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyJaneSlay1554/pseuds/ColdEthyl
Summary: Magnus Hammersmith sees someone he wants.... and gives you another reason to hate him.  Dark start of Doomstar fic.





	Blood and Sweat

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Doomstar incidents, just after the end of Season 4. Dark stuff that involves non-con/rape. No like, no read.
> 
> Constructive comments/feedback always appreciated.

Magnus watched as the Metal Masked Assassin unceremoniously dropped the still-bleeding bodies of Abigail and Toki into the basement of the abandoned building. The two groaned and blinked, barely conscious and clearly suffering from their wounds.   


Ladies first.

The guitarist reached for his Zippo and flipped open a switchblade knife. Heating the edges until they were burning hot, he gently took Abigail by the shoulder and sat her up straight, unbuttoning the bodice of her dress and sliding up her tank top so he could access her wounds. Magnus pressed the flat edge of his knife onto the stab wound on her back, searing it bloodless. That Revengencer who had done this work was ham-fisted at best. The wound looked like it hurt like Hell and had barely missed her liver. Abigail moved lethargically, disoriented and clearly extremely weak from blood loss. But the shock of the burning metal on her skin made her tense and recoil in Magnus’ arms as she let out a scream, her eyes wide. She sobbed from the pain and winced as he proceeded to sear the front exit wound so it bled no more, the skin turning red and blistered from his ministrations. 

After thoroughly cauterizing the wounds, Magnus set to stitching them up quickly, splashing some strong vodka on both to disinfect them. This elicited more squirming and faint vocal protestations from his quickly flagging captive. As she was being sewn up, she weakly called out Toki’s name as she finally lost consciousness with a drawn-out moan, just as the Assassin dragged the guitarist into the next room and closed the door. Magnus was alone with Abigail as his mind began to plot a dark scheme again....  
  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Abigail lay unconscious, her dark designer dress in tatters. The hems of her dress and slip were ripped and frayed, and her makeup was smeared and made her look somewhat haunted. Magnus looked at the young woman whose wounds he had just cauterized and sewn up. She had passed out from the shock, but the last moan that she had let slip just before she herself had slipped under had caused Magnus’ trousers to suddenly feel rather tight. 

He laid her toned, bloodied, slim body on the floor and cradled her head in his lap, the dark brown curls still soft in his hand despite becoming matted with blood, sweat and grime. The guitarist wiped the wounds with a cool, clean, damp towel. He used a corner of the towel to wipe away the dirt from her face and long neck, noticing the elegant features – the long nose and high cheekbones. 

Magnus dabbed away some errant blood from around Abigail's mouth and noticed that her lower lip was bleeding in a sort of way that made it look like she was wearing an especially dark shade of lipstick – a shade very complementary to her dark skin tone. He found himself unable to resist tasting the blood by means of a kiss – an iron flavor with a bizarre taste of sweetness – Abigail was apparently a MAC fan – many of their lipsticks bore a light sweet taste and scent. Having sampled many dozens of groupies’ lips, all men of Dethklok seemed to be lipstick flavor connoisseurs. Magnus deepened the kiss, using his tongue to taste inside her slightly-open mouth, sucking and lightly biting on her smooth lips. Lovely. He missed doing this. The pressure in his trousers intensified.

Since Magnus was alone with Abigail, he decided to do some further exploring on the unconscious young woman. He freed her gently from her dress, taking in the sight of her in her white tank top, spangled as it was with dark splotches of blood and torn from the stab wound. 

He cupped her right breast and caressed it, scooping it gently up and to the edge of a padded lace bra – small but perky. He lightly pinched and squeezed a nipple, which hardened, to his delight. Enough ceremony and tentative exploring. It had been months since he’d been with a woman, and this unresisting (albeit unconscious) one was attractive, available, and not going anywhere soon. He had needs that begged attention. His trousers grew tighter and tighter against the growing bulge of his manhood straining within. The sight and taste of the blood, the smell of his captive’s hair, fading perfume, and yes, even sweat, made him want to fuck something. 

Her.

Hard.

Spurred by her unconscious invitation, Magnus unzipped and removed his pants and black boxer briefs, freeing his large member, which was quickly engorging with blood. Feeling up the slip of his victim and pushing her thong aside, Magnus found moist muscles. Whether the dampness was from the thrill of seeing Dethklok at the funeral, or possibly blood, he didn’t care. All that mattered was that she was wet where she needed to be wet. This delighted the guitarist as he positioned the young woman on the floor, parted her legs wide, pulled her hips to his waist, and slid two fingers into the smooth slit. He drew them out and tasted them, tentatively at first, then licked them hungrily. 

Magnus didn’t hesitate to slide himself inside. He smiled a greedy, toothy smile and then sighed as the feeling of hot moisture and tightness around his cock took hold. He relished how good he felt inside her. Drawing himself in and out of her limp form felt morally wrong, and deep down, he wondered if, given a different situation, she might have willingly somehow wanted to come to his bed – after all, they had exchanged a bit of light banter, surprisingly, at the funeral just a few hours ago…. At least when Toki wasn’t carrying on about cats and other nonsense.

But more pressing matters now – Magnus was still hard, and the wet, slippery sounds of sex filled the room, accompanied by his grunts of exertion and pleasure. He removed Abigail’s tank top a bit rougher than he meant to, busting a strap in his urgency. Her front-fastening bra came off easily next, and her pert breasts were free to sway and wiggle tantalizingly with each of his thrusts. 

Magnus licked a trail from her collarbone to the top of her left hip. He drew himself out long enough to remove the slip and thong – he wanted to see the entire body of this beautiful young woman as he filled her with his seed. 

He rubbed his cock to rigid hardness as he sucked deeply and let his teeth play upon the executive’s right breast, feeling the taut nipple against his tongue. He did the same to the other, enjoying how hard the nipple got when he teased it with his hot mouth. He surfaced for air and another look at his stunning captive, admiring her bare womanhood in all of its smoothness. He loved fucking women who knew a good esthetician. Bare was always best. Every sensation could be felt and amplified for the woman and the slick pathway of no resistance in felt damn good to him. Plunging into her again felt heavenly and Magnus knew that his time was close at hand as he rode her harder and harder.

He felt her muscles suddenly tense around his cock and his pleasure felt a new high, enhanced by the awareness that she was waking up and about to react to him. He rapidly pinned her arms at her sides as her eyes snapped open, filled with shock and pain. Clamping his mouth over hers to swallow her scream, he kissed her deeply as he continued to rapidly thrust in and out, her reactions heightening his sensations. She protested and tried to bite his tongue, but he was too fast and aggressive for her, kissing her roughly and growling, “Screaming will make everything worse... for you and for little Toki. You’re mine now.” 

She snapped at him, trying to bite at his face, but he jerked his head out of the way. He clenched his teeth, straining as he ground into her further, watching her face contort with pain. Abigail’s eyes grew wide as she realized how big he was and just how much of a pounding he was giving her. “Bastard,” she hissed as the man buried his shaft deep within her, squeezing her arms painfully. She moaned and cursed as she felt the brush of the silver-streaked beard on her chest as he licked at each breast. Her hips bucked with each thrust and she attempted in vain to kick him away. It was no contest.

His body continued to wetly slam into hers as he fucked her. As Abigail moaned in pain and a strange, unwelcome pleasure she’d never admit to, Magnus managed to keep himself inside the struggling young woman as he thrust in to his hilt again and again, delighting in the way Abigail’s spasming muscles caressed his cock. He felt the strings of her IUD graze the middle of his shaft as he began to release his seed deep inside. Stars appeared as pleasure took hold, and Magnus came with a groan and a shudder, staying in her and then letting himself slide out slowly. The overflow of his seed streamed from the executive’s slit, pooling on the floor. In his last throes of pleasure, his manhood continued to pulse, sending come all over Abigail’s stomach, breasts and hips. 

Had she not been so weak from her injury, Abigail would have tried to fight back. Instead, in shock, disgust, pain and shame, she weakly held her face in her hands and began to sob as the guitarist collapsed beside her, sighing, sweaty and sated.


End file.
